


Frame of Reference

by Viola_Cantas



Category: Rune Factory 4
Genre: Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, POV Multiple, Slow Build, Social Anxiety, Suggestive Themes, Vaginal Sex, i started writing this out of spite and now im too far in, just warning you, this is a glasses heavy fic, yall are cowards and im doing this glasses man a solid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2019-11-04 01:17:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 13,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17888801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viola_Cantas/pseuds/Viola_Cantas
Summary: Frey needs a hand in the field one afternoon.Arthur is happy to help, but not sure why she's asked him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I want to preempt that this is going to be light on main story details because I started playing this game in highschool (circa 2014) and recently picked it up again. So this is starting ambiguously in the middle of the first arc.

She asks him to come along on a short foray into Yokmir Forest. Frey had cleared the area a time or two prior but needed something from the beastly tree at the forest’s end. Or so she’d said. He saw the way she held her blades, confidence in her grip, and thought to himself - _Perhaps she doesn’t need me here. But why would she ask this of me?_ She’d said something about needing range.

The thoughts rattled in his head as he took a look at their surroundings. Against the early afternoon sky he readied his staff at the clear sight of an orc archer nocking an arrow on the ridge above them.

“Frey! Archer!” She glanced to him then scanned the area, her field of vision passing the ridge.  
“Sure you’re not-” She turns just before an arrow streaking across the sky strikes her directly in the shoulder. He sees her expression flash from a coy smirk to shock before she stumbles over. Arthur sees the archer beginning to pull another arrow from his quiver.

He shoots a bolt of dark magic that flings the orc back with great force, dispatching it quickly. Once Arthur confirms there are no more immediate threats, he drops to Frey’s side where she fell. The arrow had glanced off the heavy shoulder guards she wore, but not without leaving its mark; he could see a red patch that would certainly be a sickly purple-green by the time they returned to Selphia.  
“... Came out of nowhere... S-striking from the shadows like a coward.” She grumbles, rolling her shoulder in its socket, wincing.   
“Out of nowhere?” He can’t help but chuckle at her petty response. ”He was the only figure on the hill.”   
“... Whatever.” He offers her a hand up and she takes it begrudgingly.

The trip continues mostly without event; a couple close scrapes with stray arrows, but nothing particularly life threatening, and they retrieve the rare material she needed.  
The return to Selphia is quiet as well, and he takes the time to make note of a few errands. Frey slows to a stop just inside the town gates, and he stows his notebook and quill in his cloak.   
“Thank you… For coming with me today.” He could see the gears in her head turning, figuring out what she wanted to say. “I know it’s not your preferred field; I just needed some… ranged help.” She’s picking at the hilt of one of her blades, a nervous tick if he ever saw one.

His tone is even, an attempt to soothe her hesitation. “It’s nothing, I’m glad I was able to help today. I wouldn’t like to think about what might have occurred otherwise.”

“Yeah… Gotta look harder next time.” She gives him a sheepish smile that strikes him with its sincerity. Something flutters in his gut, and not for the first time. “Thank you, Arthur.”

“My pleasure.” They part and he can’t help but watch Frey make her way into the castle, nursing her shoulder. Her silhouette sticks with him as he makes his way to Porcoline’s. She had changed since they met in more way than one. Trading twin ponytails down to her waist for a more practical single tail to her shoulders. He’d stopped by her farm one morning and found her slumped in the shade in front of a freshly planted field. Slick with sweat and visibly exhausted, she still ran to greet him and give him a tour of her planned crops. _These were those pink turnips you suggested!_ She had crooned. She switched the dress she’d arrived in for a similarly patterned tunic with light linen pants. Frey had jumped at the chance to help the citizens of Selphia, but seemed more distant in certain ways.

 _Frey is good for Selphia. She has done so much in so little time._ He can’t help but think of how it might have been if she hadn’t literally fallen into their laps. The idea of doing farmwork was not an enticing one, even for him. And as for the recent goings on in town; while he’s certain he wouldn't have floundered in her position as protector, life would be a tad more complicated.

As he made his way up the stairs to his room in the restaurant, something nagged at the edge of his mind. Something about Frey. He cleaned himself, as he dressed for bed, and as he put out the candles.

 _I just needed some… ranged help._ The words echo in his head.

_Why ask me? I’ve seen her sell staves she’s crafted herself in the square._

_Certainly she’s got skill with magic, I’ve seen her summon small gusts to mess with Xiao Pai._ _  
_ _Of course they’re always pretty close when she does that._

_She uses those short daggers to fight too._

_Guess she likes close range._

_Easy to see weak points up close._

_Easy to see..._

The shoe drops and he bolts upright.


	2. Chapter 2

“She can’t see.”

The knowledge sits in his stomach for the next few days as he decides what to do with it. _Would it be intrusive to tell Jones? Or should I tell her directly?_

The threat of a bad reaction from her puts him off that idea, but the thought that she’s putting herself in danger needlessly needles him to action.

The day he pulls himself from busy-work trade reports to talk with her, she surprises him by visiting him first.

“Hey, need a break?” She cocks an eyebrow, glancing at his abnormally empty desk. Her gaze doesn’t linger there. He duly notes a hand tucked behind her, but his gaze quickly returns to her face.

“Sure, I’d been meaning to-” He starts, but is hushed.

“Before you say anything, I’ve got a little thank you gift.” She pulls a platter into view, stacked with onigiri on one side, with a small dish of pickled turnip on the other. “It’s nothing big I just uh… Well I may have gotten a tip from Meg.”

“Did…” The gesture threw his composure. “Did you make these?” The food was delicately arranged.

Her cheeks flushed a little. “Y-yeah, I’ve been trying some new recipes. Did I make the wrong thing?”

“No, rather, these are my favorite.” he gestured to the couches “Would you please join me for lunch?”

“Yea- Yes, thank you. Let me just -uh- lose some of this equipment.” She removed the heavy tool belt from her waist, setting her blades with care by the door. Without the belt, her tunic sat more naturally, highlighting her excellent physique.

They exchanged niceties and stories of their days.

“This is very good, but can I suggest a spice for the turnip? I've just received it from a trader.”

“It smells wonderful, I'll bring you the result when I make it.”

Their lunch began winding down and as conversation waned, he tried a broach of the topic.

“Frey, how is your vision?”

“My vision?” The question didn't upset her, so a good sign. “I don't know, average?”

 _That’s not an answer._ “How well can you see?”

“Y’know… I can see you sitting across from me, I can see how many fingers you're holding, if you're gonna try that one on me.” She'd sat up in her seat, hands on her hips.”I can see jus-”

“Frey.” His voice was soft. She met his eyes and knitted her eyebrows, bravado swept from her in an instant. “I… am concerned for you. Please consider seeing Jones for an exam.”

“I…” She hesitated. “I will.”

“On one condition.” Suddenly there was a gleam in her eye that _really_ concerned him.

“...Go on.”

“Can I try on your glasses?”

His stomach fluttered.


	3. Chapter 3

Arthur suddenly looked very nervous, miles from his usual polite, almost stoic demeanor.

_ Maybe. I should not have done this.  _ But Frey's already asked. Being put on the spot about her eyes already had her on the back foot, she just wanted to see what he'd look like without them.

“Alright.” He let out a breath and pulled the lenses off his face. The motion jostled his pristine locks and he took a moment to adjust before handing over the frames.

Even with her vision as it was, she knew Arthur was not older than her by much, if at all.  The removal of his glasses somehow made him seem younger, though. His eyes, more clear to her now without glare from the glass, she could see were a brilliant red. His cheekbones were more pronounced, adding a sort of gauntness to his face she hadn't noticed before. Certainly a handsome face, but she could see his sleepless nights were taking their toll.

She realized she had looked a little too long when he waved the glasses toward her again. 

“I do need these to see, I haven't got all…” He trailed off as she pulled the glasses onto her face. “...day.”

The power on his glasses was not the same as she would need, and she repressed a flinch when she first looked through them. Through blurry vision she saw a slight tilt of Arthur's head but could not make out his expression. She closed her eyes, the strength of his lenses giving her a headache, and pulled the glasses off delicately.

“It may be an over-correction; your glasses are very cute, but they're not really right for me.” As Frey handed them back, she barely caught him snap back into in his normal composure.

As he put them back on, he restrained a chuckle and muttered something under his breath. 

“What?” She said, tapping an ear. She got a peek at a brilliant smile, hiding behind his high collar.

“You think my glasses are cute?”

_ Did I say that? Oh, I said it, didn't I. _

“I mean, what I’m saying is- Your glasses look good on you.” She could feel heat reach her face.

“Thank you.” He gave her an honest smile that made her feel like true royalty. And very nervous.

“Thank you.” The words came out without thought. “-for having lunch with me today! I'm gonna go see if Jones is in. Bye!”

She was out the door without a second thought, cheeks burning like a bonfire.

_ How could I say that? _

 

-o0o-

 

_ You’re very cute, Frey. _

Arthur did not have good vision. He knew that from a young age.

But to say that Frey was not pretty was to admit blindness. Frey wasn't pretty, she was beautiful. Frey’s smile could (and did) make flowers grow. It was just factual.

And she had put on his glasses.

She had run off in a hurry but he was still stunned by the experience.

She looked radiant, glasses framing her face in such a way to bring out the shape of her eyes,  the soft curve of her cheeks. The set of her brow showed the lingering determination she held in her everyday tasks, bordering on stubbornness. She had closed her sparkling verdant eyes behind long dark lashes and the sight took his breath away.

He was  _ awestruck _ .

He sat there for a long time, caught up in his own machinations before he noticed a blue gleam by his door.

A pair of shining blue blades belonging to a certain faux princess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First Frey POV in a chapter. I don't suspect I'll write too many more of these as I find it more fun writing Arthur's perspective. Hope you enjoyed it :)  
> EDIT: I've never encountered this scene and didn't realize there was a scene just like it in game. I'll take my dunce cap.  
> EDIT (again): How's the chapter length so far? I have some sections written that may be better in one big chapter, but it's up to y'all, are the chapters a good size, or too short?


	4. Chapter 4

The eye exam had been more harrowing than she’d expected and killed her afternoon. The next morning saw Jones’ warnings about waiting for her glasses to be made before heading into danger ignored.  _ I’ve got things to do! _ But the princess-in-name hit a stumbling block. The absence of her beloved daggers.

_ Where are they?  _ She was not a particularly neat woman, but this was a new low, even for her. 

_ Had them when I got up yesterday… Had them tending to the Cluckys… Had them at… _

“Arthur’s!” The idea of facing him after yesterday’s...  _ embarrassment…  _ was not particularly exciting for her.

_ I’m gonna make a fool out of myself again.  _ Her anxiety was off the charts, but resolving to head over and recover them, Frey practically bowled over the man in her doorway. A certain blonde noble.

“Oh, pardon me, Frey.” Stoic as always, he greeted her with a civil smile. She was stunned.

_ Say something!  _ “Arthur! I was- y’know, funny, that you’re here.”  _ Try again. _ “I was just on my way to see you. W-would you like to come in?”  _ Better. _

His expression didn’t change. “If you’ll have me.”

“Of course,” She gestured in, and he followed, closing the door behind him with care. “Do you want a bite to eat? I was thinking about fixing something.”  _ Untrue, you were going to sneak out of town. _

Putting away his small notebook, he frowned lightly. “I couldn’t intrude-”

“I insist. You’re always welcome here.”  _ What are you saying?!  _ His expression shifted subtly, a change she couldn’t put her finger on. 

“Thank you.” 

The two sat and chatted idly over a portion of eggplant miso.

“Did you get your eyes checked?” He caught her stuffing a piece of eggplant in her mouth. “I apologize if I’m overstepping, you don’t need to-.”

She quickly swallowed. “No! You’re fine. It went well, I think.” She picked at her nails. “Jones said my glasses will be arriving in a few days.”

“Oh, so you’ve been fitted?” His voice was restrained; restraining what, she wasn’t sure.

“Yes, you were right. I do need them. I ordered a couple of pairs since my line of work is fairly… treacherous.” 

He sat up in his chair, taking a look around her room and avoiding her eye. “May I ask what kinds of frames they are?”

_ Frames? _ “Well I ordered a pair that are pretty ornate silver ones for dressing up, but some simple iron frames for day-to-day.”  _ He does have a lot of glasses in his office. _

He seemed to approve of her choice, and changed the topic. “By the way, the reason for my original visit; I believe you’re missing these.”

From below his heavy cloak, he unclipped from his belt her own tool belt, daggers and all.

“Thank you so much. Though Jones may put me on house arrest if he sees me try to leave town.”

“I may do so as well.” He said with a light chuckle.

“Excuse me??” He laughed a little harder, a cute sight, she had to admit.

He stood  and thanked her for the meal, and turned to leave when she felt something tug at her mind.

She caught him by the wrist.

“Arthur.” She smiled sheepishly. “You’re welcome here any time.”

He tilted his head, glasses catching the light for a second.

“I’ll remember that. Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's looking like at least 10/11 chapters total, and I have most of them written. I'm very excited!  
> Please let me know what you think :^)


	5. Chapter 5

He hadn't taken her affection in to account when he arrived in Selphia. How could he? She was a foreign variable, something he could neither plan for nor predict. At least for a short while, or so he thought. But her remarks had him second guessing his preconception. She was so _ sincere. _

_ “You’re welcome here any time.” _

The gesture was surely just a courtesy for his sake,  _ surely. _ But he couldn’t help but remember her expression: brows knit, eyes piercing, soft smile.

A detached thought arrived:  _ She’s polite with you because you’re a prince. _

_ Perhaps she is. _

Frey visited the next few days. Not for too long; usually for a few minutes, during which he’d find a snack thrust under his nose, forcing him to stop. He appreciated the breaks and her inquiries into his work, a refreshing face after dealing with stone-faced traders from around the kingdom.

 

-o0o-

 

It continued like that for a time.

But today was a stressful day. Two trade deals on the verge of collapse and no word from a supplier put him in a tough spot, to say the least. His quill cloak was hung on the back of his chair, his shirt sleeves rolled up. The noise at the restaurant wound down to the low hum of the night crowd. So when Frey paraded into his office with a cheerful greeting, she caught him by surprise. He felt a little disorderly in his current state of dress, but made no move to show it. She was equally out of habit, wearing a more casual outfit then her usual garb.

“Guess what’s here?” Hands behind her back, she stood opposite his desk.

“You?” Her interruption was welcome, but the day had drained some of his patience.

“No. I mean, yeah, but that’s not what I meant.” She pulled an small, ornately painted box from her back, a trade logo he was familiar with blazened on the top.

“I see. Or rather, you will.” He offered a small smile as she giggled at the word play. Gently pushing some papers aside, she leaned against the side of his desk, surprising him with her proximity. With careful movements, she opened the case, and pulled her new lenses from the wool packing.

She held them for a few moments, turning them over in hand. She offered them to him. 

“What do you think?”

He took them delicately, taking a slow look over them.  _ Silver, good quality. Subtle detailing in the arms, well built hinges, and no discoloration in either lens. _

“They’re of excellent craft, but I think I’d prefer to see them on you.” There was hint of a double entendre but he did his best to ignore it. She took the glasses back and took a breath before carefully putting them on.

_ Breathtaking. Absolutely breathtaking. _

She blinked once. Twice. She raised her hand to her mouth, taking in the details of his office he can only assume were blurry before.

She turned to him, and he saw her gasp lightly. He smiled, and sat back in his chair, exhaustion settling in but enraptured by her energy.

“Like what you see?” He mentally kicked himself. If she noticed the slip in decorum, she did not say. 

“Everything is so clear.” The wonder in her voice was unmistakable. She snapped around. “And you!”

He flinched. “Me?”

“You’ve got freckles!”  _ Odd detail to fixate on, but fine. _

“Yes, I’ve had them for quite a while. Twenty-some-odd years now.” He narrowed his eyes. “Wait. How  _ bad _ is your vision?”

She pouted, but laughed regardless. “Don’t make fun of me!”  _ Cute. _

He turned back to the day’s reports and grimaced. She spent several minutes admiring different knick knacks and items in his office with her new eyes. He looked up again when she fell quiet; she was facing him again, box in hand, glasses on face.

“It’s getting late so I’m going to head back now.” She bowed her head minutely. 

_ A thought occurred to him.  _ He stood. “Would you like me to-”

“Arthur, are you still up? Porco- oh.” Margaret, walked in from the dining hall, and stopped when she saw he wasn’t alone. “Sorry.”

Frey piped up. “Y-you’re fine. I was on my way out.”  _ Drat. _

Margaret continued, “Porcoline and I agree you need to get some sleep today. You look absolutely haggard. Leave your loose ends for tomorrow.”

“Pardon?” Arthur snorted.

Margaret stepped toward him, gesturing him to the stairs. “When was the last time you slept anyway?”

“I don’t know; this is important-” He sputtered as she switched to literally pushing him.

“You don’t know when you last slept?” The genuine concern and fright in Frey's voice caught his attention. ”Please get some rest!”

It wrenched something in his gut. 

“Al-Alright, just let me go. I’ll go.”

Satisfied with that answer, Margaret claps her hands. “Don't let me catch you-”

“Yes, I understand.” A moment passes and he and Frey are alone once more.

She breaks the uneasy silence that's settled in. 

“Thank you, for everything.”

“What did I do?” He feels a tired smile on his lips.

“For helping me realize what I needed.” His breath caught for a moment. “I would have never gotten my vision fixed if it weren’t for you.” He exhaled.  _ Maybe I do need more than two hours sleep tonight. _

“I guess this is good night, then.”

“I guess so.” She fiddles with her sleeve for a moment. “Please, take care of yourself, Arthur.”

“...I will try.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized that this fic is not as glasses-heavy as I originally guessed, but there's still a fair amount.  
> Hope you enjoyed it :^)


	6. Chapter 6

The time seemed to pass in a blur, Frey's glasses making a small ripple across town.

She got a few compliments, and a few more scoldings for not having gotten them earlier, echoing concerns of safety. It made her self-conscious, that she hadn't realized it earlier. A lack of previous experience to draw on was the culprit, one she couldn't do anything about.

But seeing things was pretty nice, she had to admit.  _ No more miscounting seeds, or tearing the castle apart to find little things. _

She also got the added benefit of actually seeing people. The first time she saw Ventuswill with clear eyes, she made sure to draw in every detail she could find. Venti chastised her for it, but it was worth it. She saw little things about the townsfolk she hadn't noticed before: Kiel and Forte's similar noses, Blossom's laughter lines, Arthur's freckles.  _ His freckles! _ His eyes, red as she remembered but lightening to a soft pink at the edge of the pupil. She blushed at the thought of that night, but remembered the dark circles under his eyes as well. How thin he seemed without his travel cloak. It worried her.

She finished the last of her watering, and dusted off her gloves. Checking the sun's position, she figured it was early afternoon, and about lunch time.

Jogging into the cool castle walls, she smiled at the thought of visiting a certain prince.

 

-o-

 

_ But even the best laid plans… _

Every citizen in Selphia had a question or request for her, it seemed, and the manju she was toting were not in great shape. After taking a moment to speak with Lin Fa about her bath tab, she was finally on her way towards Arthur.

She stopped in at the kitchen first, checking in with patrons who greeted her, as well as the resident chef. As Frey was about to pass through the door to the other end of the manor, an elven musician waved her over.

 

-o0o-

 

Hearing a soft chime denoting the change to the lunch menu, Arthur stood slowly from his desk. Stretching his back and taking note of his schedule for the rest of the day, he wandered over to the dining hall.

He heard a familiar laugh upon entering: a mirthful Frey poking at Doug’ shoulder, an indignant frown on his face, cheeks crimson. The kitchen was warm, but he felt a chill. Upon noticing him, Frey turned and called to him, waving.

His smile felt sluggish. “Nice to see you, Frey. Doug.” Doug nodded.

“I brought you these… for later, I guess.” She handed over a small bento container which he accepted with a polite smile. “Wanna sit down for lunch? You’re welcome as well, Doug.”

He agreed.

The lunch was… fine, with Frey jump starting conversation between the two young men. Arthur was civil, responding in kind to her questions. Doug muttered his answers as well, shooting looks at Arthur in the meantime. 

Catching him in one such look, Arthur raised an eyebrow. Doug, acting as if he hadn’t seen, tore into the dish before him.  _ He’s got a chip on his shoulder, duly noted. _

Sensing something wrong, Frey’s prompts dwindled. Before long, the trio finished their lunch and Doug excused himself, late for his shift at the general store.

She broke the quiet. “Is something wrong, Arthur?”

“No, nothing wrong.”  _ Nothing? It doesn’t feel like nothing. _

“Heading back to work, then?”

Pulling his notebook out, he started. “Yes, I’m in the middle of finalizing a shipment route for a new growth supplement from... the North.”

“I hope all goes well.” She gave him a soft smile. “Make sure to take b-breaks, and get some good sleep tonight.” She wrung her hands.

“I will try.”

The two parted ways.

Distracted by  _ Nothing _ the whole afternoon, he got to bed early that night.


	7. Chapter 7

He couldn’t sleep. It was early, even for him. The nearly-dawning sun lit Selphia in a hazy glow from which a figure running caught his eye.

_ Frey? _

A young woman with dark green locks hurrying down the road, a small shoulder bag in tow and skirt hiked in the other. The detail that struck him was the thin shift she wore, a soft cream colored garment hugging her figure as she ran. It was just a nightgown, but more feminine than anything he'd seen her wear in recent memory. It was almost scandalous and he considered leaving the hall window, but Arthur stood mesmerized until she turned into the castle's garden. She was a  _ vision _ .

_ But for who? _

The thought crashed into his mind, stopping everything else in its tracks.  _ To be running home this early? From where?  _ The questions and implications stung, and he struggled to figure out why.

Arthur dressed for the day, a weight in his chest that he hadn’t woken with and his thoughts tangled and cacophonous. When he sat at the desk, the numbers in his reports seemed to swim before him, and the hours passed with next to nothing to show for it. 

“Would it kill you to take a break?” Margaret caught him with his head in his hands, a sneer on her lip and a plate from Porcoline in hand. Startled, his head shot up and he tried to look busy, gathering papers.

“At this rate...” The words were muttered. Margaret paused for a moment before placing the plate at the edge of his desk, walking slowly back to the restaurant.

She turns on heel, and marches up to his desk.

“Arthur.”

“Yes?” He doesn’t look up.

“Arthur. This is serious.”

he looks up, annoyed but tired

“Is everything alright?” He’s surprised by the question.

“I… Things are fairly complicated at the moment.”

“In your work, or in your personal life?” she leaned against the handrail to the loft, arms crossed with a determined look.  _ Ah. I've been more transparent than I thought. _

He considers lying, knowing he shouldn't trust her with too much information, but decides against it. “Both, admittedly.”

She waits for an elaboration that never comes. She taps her foot for a moment, thinking. “I don't know much about your work -can’t help there- but maybe you should talk to whoever you think is the source of this… complication.”

He furrows his brow. “It's not so simple.”

“It might be. You need to slow down. Hang out with some friends.” She snaps her fingers. “Oh! You could throw a sleepover.”

“A sleepover.” He deadpanned.

“Yeah, spend some time with guys, talk about… whatever the hell you all bond over.”

He snorted. “Does that work?” He didn't have a normal childhood in the capital, so the idea is foreign as anything.

“Works for the girls. We had one a few weeks back at my place, very cathartic. Well… usually.”

It piqued his interest. “Usually?”

“It's not my place to say.” Her expression reeked guilt. 

“Not important. Just work off some of your stress.”

He did not see Frey that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience as well as kudos! I meant to post sooner but its been fairly hectic as I've been travelling and spending time with family.  
> There's going to be a small interlude chapter I will post after this that's a little risque, so feel free to skip it if ti's not your cup of tea.


	8. Chapter 7.5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to let you know, this interlude will be dealing with themes of masturbation so if you don't wanna read this, nothing plot important happens.

That night, he lay awake in bed. With light streaming in from the street lamps, he could probably count the knots in the wood panel ceiling. That is, if he wasn't so preoccupied.

The image of her in his mind was  _ distracting _ . He couldn't focus and he certainly couldn't sleep.

_ Looking up at him with those beautiful green eyes through those silver frames, wearing nothing but- _

He stopped himself for the thousandth time and stifled a groan with his hand. 

_ You're despicable.  _ He thought.  _ She's doing you dozens of favors and you've reduced her to this? _

_ No -perhaps- no. She's a good friend, perhaps even a confidant. _

_ Is she? She's such a good friend, you can't help but picture her naked?  _

_ She's beautiful. I can't help but appreciate that. _

_ But that doesn't address the issue at hand. She's not yours. _

_ Frey is… important to me. _

_ More important than..? _

_ Well. She's my friend. _

_ And I'm simply…  _

_ strategizing… should the day ever come that we're in be- _

_ No! What kind of prince are you? _

_ … _

_ … _

_ A sexually frustrated one. _

He groans again, tugging at his pants. The street lamps peter out.

His mind does not.


	9. Chapter 7.8 Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kingdom hearts jokes aside, if you skipped 7.5, welcome back :^)  
> If you didn't, welcome back ;^)

He did not see Frey for about a week.

As it turns out, Frey found another guardian. A young woman named Dolce dragged out of Obsidian Mansion, just outside town. With her arrival came the knowledge that Ventuswill is dying without the power of the runes.

He admires Frey’s drive; despite her anxiety, she doesn’t consider for a second that this is anyone’s responsibility but hers. They have a plan of action, and she’s already executing it; venturing off into the deeper recesses of the countryside. He hears second hand that she’s been heading out alone, returning wordlessly covered in gashes and bruises.

_ Why are you going it alone, Frey? _

_ Why didn’t you ask me for a hand? _

The idea hurts more than he’d admit, but not worse than the thought that he may have put this upon her. That with her new eyes, she’d rather put herself at higher risk than ask a friend. 

_ Am I her friend? _

His stomach turns.

_ I’m not so certain anymore. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally added some time context, so that's neat. It's fairly short, but that's cause it was meant to be posted as one chapter, but I wanted an easy way for people to skip the spicy bit.  
> Thank you for sticking with me and Chapter 8 will go up when I stop looking at what I've written and collapsing into a disheveled heap.


	10. Chapter 8

Things slow down, Venti’s condition is stabilized, and Frey begins her visits to Arthur again.

Arthur is distant. He greets her curtly, not making half the small talk he usually does. He fills her in on the weekly reports, but doesn't address her implicit questions about his health or day. His smiles are strained and unnatural. She brings him treats which he politely declines, but thanks her for nonetheless. 

He's acting the perfect example of a dedicated trader and incognito prince, clinical and detached, which hurt her more than she would have guessed. Frey keeps the feeling close, leaving a cold silence in the room when she steps out. She can guess why he’s acting this way, and takes the hint.

_ Rumor spreads fast, I guess. _

He won’t speak with her.

He won’t eat with her.

She begins to notice his daily route changing to avoid hers.

It’s another week before it becomes too much.

 

-o0o-

 

The rain had been threatening for days. He’d heard several citizens muttering about the possibility of a typhoon; not outside the realm of possibility going into the late summer months.

When the storm finally hit, it  _ hit. _

The roar outside was almost deafening. Residents of Selphia were shuttered into their homes, none braving the rain and wind that pelted windows and shook rafters.

When he hears the front door open in the evening, he can’t help but look up from his letters. Once. Then, twice.

Frey is… a mess. Hair down, plastered to her face, and soaked to the bone. She pads toward his desk and he’s helpless but to watch her, quill in hand.

“Can we talk, Arthur?” Frey’s voice is soft, without stutter, without emotion. Her face betrays her, eyes dark with an emotion he can’t place but knows isn’t good. 

Her hands are still.

“What’s there to talk about?” It’s a slimy response that leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

She shakes her head and laughs, an empty bark. “What happened?” She puts a hand to her forehead. “Did I say something? Did I-”

“Frey-”

“-do something? Please. Just tell me.” 

He was dumbstruck, frozen in place. 

“Oh, what am I kidding? M-meg already told you... I feel so s-stupid.” Frey crossed her arms close to her chest and began to turn away from him, fingers scratching her arms without purchase.

Her words rattling in his head.

“I-I don’t understand, what do you mean-”

“Look, Arthur. If you don’t like me, y-you should have just said so. But I get it, I’ve got the memo now. We can go back and p-pretend I didn’t do anything d-dumb and unnecessary.” The words cut him to the core. Without another word, Frey entered the storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :^)


	11. Chapter 9

He was out the door before the embers of the candle wicks dimmed.

The hour was late. Wind howling, and rain stinging his face, Arthur made his way through the streets of Selphia. It was treacherous work, rain speckling his lenses and obstructing his vision as detritus dislodged from trees and flew past.

Coming upon the door he seeked, he wasted no time with etiquette. 

Three heavy bangs on the aged wooden door.

No answer.

“Margaret.” Three more bangs.

Nothing.

“Meg!”

“Hold on!”

The door swung out, and in his state, he barely dodged it as the wind slammed it open.   
Behind it, an upset and now shocked Margaret stood, dressed down to a housecoat. 

“I need to talk to you.” The words are brusque.

“Are you nuts, Arthur? Can’t it wait after the-”

“It’s about Frey.” His words are firm. “I need to know what happened with you and Frey.”

Margaret froze for a moment, glancing to the side. She stepped aside, letting him in from the onslaught. He shrugged in his cloak, soaked from head to toe, before leaning against her dining table, arms crossed.

“I was just joking with her, I didn’t think I was right or that she’d get ups-” 

He raises a hand, wiping the water out of his eyes with the other.

“Start at the beginning, when was this?”

“What do you know?”

“Frey thinks you told me something to make me…”He gestures, searching his brain for better wording. He finds none.” ...to make me hate her.” 

“Okay…” She took a deep breath. “I had a sleepover here a few weeks ago. All the girls. And we usually talk… girl talk, y’know. Amber started asking everyone- maybe I shouldn’t say this.”   
He dropped his head into his hands, sighing. 

“The situation literally cannot be worse than it is currently.  _ Please _ tell me.” He made no effort to hide the desperation in his voice.

“Amber started asking everyone if they had any ‘special somebodies.’ Her words, not mine. I asked Frey if she had someone in mind, then grilled her about,” She hesitated. He nodded. “Well, about you. I made a few jokes- I was trying to be funny! But I don’t think Frey took it that way at all. She got flustered and some of the other girls got a laugh out of it. She ran out crying before anyone- before I could apologize, she was so embarrassed.”

Half of him wants details, the other half  _ really doesn’t.  _ He simply huffs, waiting for her to continue.

“I went too far. I recognize that. We all went over the next day and apologized, promised to keep it a secret.” Meg laughed, a hollow sound. “I don’t blame her for thinking I went back on my word.”

He stood there for a moment, soaking it in, the only sound dripping on the floor boards. His head pounded with a headache, but the situation was clear now.  _ I think I understand.  _

He sighed again. “...I’m sorry, for barging in like this.” He gathered himself, ready to face the typhoon again. “And thank you.”

“I’m sorry about all this, Arthur.”

He offered her a worn smile, shaking his head. “It’s alright. So am I.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience! I just started a new job, so it's been a little busy. I hope y'all like this update and next one is coming soon :^)


	12. Chapter 10

It takes him considerably longer to reach the castle in the storm, the pounding in his head growing stronger. Guard is posted and they let him in, but the servantry have since settled in for the night, leaving the halls especially hollow. His footsteps echo in the silent halls. What he would say when he reached her chamber, he was not certain.

_ If she actually sees you. _

The real possibility that she may not want to see him, may not hear him out at all, exacerbates his fear, but Arthur only quickens his pace.

When he arrives, he’s out of breath and chilled by the cold castle air. A little dizzy from the exertion, he sniffs, gathering his wits. Arthur knocks with urgency, but no real power.

He strains to listen behind the door, and hears… something stop. He knocks again.

“Frey.” The name comes out a croak.

It feels like ages before the door opens.

Frey is there. Hair clumped and dark, still damp. In her cream nightgown, falling just above the ankle, fingertips barely visible under long sleeves.

Silver glasses, polished to a spotless shine. Through them he can see her beautiful green eyes: puffy and red from crying, ghosts of tears staining her cheeks.

The sight eviscerates him.

He clears his throat, but his words still come out choked and hoarse. “If you don’t want to see me, I understa-” He’s interrupted by the shock of her strong arms latching around him, warm face in his chest. The impact sends him back a step. She mumbles something into his soaked shirt.

“Frey?” He feels his ears grow warm, spreading to his face.  _ It’s rather warm in here... _

She peeks up at him for a moment, then hides again.

“I always want to see you, Arthur.”

He remembers what she said last time he was here.

“Thank you… Frey.”

_ You’re always welcome here. _

The sentiment warms him as his vision fades.

 

-o0o-

 

“A-arthur?”

Frey yelps as Arthur’s full weight comes down on her shoulders. He doesn’t respond. She bucks any propensity of nervousness, sensing something wrong.

“Arthur, talk to me.” She changes her hold on him; he’s not heavy, which is not a comfort in any sense. When Frey can get a good look at his face, she sees he’s pale as a sheet, eyes closed, lips parted.

Their relationship issues weren’t a priority anymore, Arthur was.

She stumbled with his unwieldy form to her armchair. His head lolled, and she looked up in time to see his glasses slip off his ears. She paid them little mind, more worried about the man in her arms.

She placed him gently, and with intense focus checked his vitals. 

Fingers under his jaw on either side. Arthur winces, but does not wake.

Pulse.  _ Present, but a little too quick. _

Airway. _ His throat is swollen practically shut. _

Pressing the back of her hand to his forehead, feeling an intense heat, she confirmed her suspicion.  _ Arthur. I told you to take care of yourself. _

She stood up straight, considering her options.  _ Jones is out of the question. Neither of us should be going back out into that maelstrom. Once was bad enough. And Volkanon and the others might be more hindrance than help at this hour. _

A thought struck her, and she jumped over to her storage chest, rummaging for a few moments before pulling out several bundles of dried herbs.

“These should make good tonic to help him recover.” In a few moments, the remedy is brewing and she turned back to the prince. Arthur has begun shivering and Frey frowns as she realizes a puddle is beginning to form at his feet.

“We need to get-” She swallows, nerves threatening to override her adrenaline response. “Let’s get you changed, Arthur.”

 

-o-

 

The ordeal leaves color in her cheeks for a long time, but she tries not to think about it too hard.

When the deed is done, he’s settled under the covers in her bed. A set of pajamas that had been prepared for his arrival in Selphia castle that normally haunted the bottom drawer of her wardrobe finally found their use.

She shook him softly, stirring him enough to get him to drink the homemade medicine. He mumbled something incomprehensible, but quickly fell back under.

Wringing her hands, she sat beside him, listening to the winds howling outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your kudos and patience! I know I've been on radio silence, so for that I apologize. Things have picked up at work, and I'm doing a lot more hours there. Plus, I've been struggling on a chapter in the pipeline that's especially challenging for me. I want to get it just right for y'all so I don't want to rush it. ;)  
> Once again! Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think, and I hope you have a wonderful day!


	13. Chapter 11

The sound of rain on the stone walls was painfully loud. Pulse pounding in his ears and throat on fire, he shuddered awake.

He couldn’t sit up. 

Not for lack of trying. 

_ What’s on my- _

He cracked his eyes open to see a messy tangle of dark green hair: Frey leaned over from a chair and asleep on his chest.  _ Oh. _

He let his head limply fall back to the pillow with instantaneous regret, an ache in his neck flaring. Hissing, Arthur’s shoulders seized.

At this, Frey stirred, picking herself up off him sheepishly.

She put a cool hand to his forehead. “A-arthur, how do you feel?”

He felt hazy and wrong, as though he was not in his own body.

“Terrible.” is what he would have said, had he not broken into a coughing fit. She offered him a glass; he sat up carefully, and drank it hastily.

He finally whispered out two words. “Thank you.”

She smiled at him, warm as ever before, but he realized she's fuzzy. Out of focus.  _ Where are my glasses? _ Turning to her nightstand, he saw them atop a thick green journal.

Spiderwebs of cracks dominated the lenses.

“Sorry. They fell while I was p-preoccupied.”

His mind whirled with past memories about the frames, and he took a deep, rattling breath. He shook his head.

“They can be repaired.” His head pounded again at the sound of his own voice, and he groaned.

“Hey, don't strain yourself. Can't afford to let you get any worse.” a soft hand against his shoulder laid him down slowly, without protest. She looked heavenly in the soft light; like an angel descended. 

“Frey…” he didn't recognize his own voice in the haze.

“Yes?”

“I'm sorry. And…”

Exhaustion took him again.

 

-o0o-

 

“And… I think I'm in love with you.”

Frey wasn't sure to make of that.  _ Definitely related to the fever.  _

He was out again. 

_ Absolutely just fever dreaming _ . 

They would need to talk once he was feeling better.

She put a hand on his cheek. His hair was tousled and messy, very different from the manicured look he normally sported. She thought it would be cute if she hadn't felt his temperature spike. Frey scrambled to her medicine corner to fix another brew, and prayed he would pull through.  _ Change of plans.  _ She thought.  _ I'm gonna need their help after all. _

 

-o-

 

Certain she'd done all she could to stabilize Arthur for the time being, Frey left his bedside to call on her friends.  _ They might be a little odd, but they're reliable folks. They'll be a help one way or another. _

She knocked on the door to their shared quarters with a heavy hand. Vishnal answered.

“Yes, can I he-” He stumbled, noticing her pajamas. “-help you?” 

“Arthur's sick and I need help.”

“Sick!? Where is he?” Vishnal seemed ready to jump into action, also in his pajamas.

“He's in my room. He's stable, I think. But we need to get in contact with Jones.” By this time, Clorica and Volkanon had awoke, standing behind Vishnal in the doorway, a proper pajama party. 

“Do you all think there's any safe way to reach him in this storm?” Frey repressed the urge to clench her fists.

Volkanon spoke. “I can get through to the clinic. This rain is nothing for me.” He beat his chest with a fist, puffed up like a bird, with a tear in his eye.

“Are you sure? It’s rough out there.”

“Anything for my prince.” He paused a moment, bowing. “And princess.” That made her smile, if bittersweetly. He set off to prepare, and Frey was left with the two butlers in training.

Clorica piped up, rubbing at her eyes. “Is there anything you need in the meantime? It will be a time until Volk-” She paused to yawn. “-anon will be back.”

Frey pulled a small list she prepared. “If you could get me some of these herbs from the castle stock, I think that'd be a big help. Mine is running a little thin.”

She stretched lazily. “Alright.”

“Thank you, Clorica.”

“What can I do?” Vishnal was an emotional wreck, deflated that the others had assigned roles in this situation.

“Uh…” Frey was stumped for a moment.  _ What can he do? _ The rain pattering against the walls gave her an idea.

“This may sound silly, but can you help me with laundry? Arthur's and my clothes are practically ruined from the weather. Also, I think I’ll need a spare cot made in my room in the meantim-”

“I’m on it!” With a shout, he was down the hall, practically sprinting.

The sight made her laugh, and lifted some weight off her shoulders.

 

-o-

 

Arthur had been going in and out every once in a while, mumbling more cryptic nonsense. It was another day of monitoring Arthur's condition before the storm cleared enough for Volkanon and Jones to make it over. He made it a house call, deciding it best to treat Arthur in place rather than bring him to the clinic. Once the doctor arrived and began treatment, Frey stepped out to let him work.

_ He's out of my hands now.  _ In an attempt to distract herself, Frey threw herself into town cleanup and rebuilding. Many of Selphia’s businesses and homes had suffered relatively minor but time-critical damages in the cyclone.

Putting in work wherever she could, Frey helped patched the general store roof, rehang several doors that had blown off their hinges in the wind, and clean up fallen trees all over town. It was unforgiving work, but she’d do anything to help Selphia’s citizens, as well as get her mind off the sick prince seemingly wasting away in her room.

Evening rolled in and Frey paid Venti a visit.

“You look worn, Frey.” 

“I'm fine. But the townsfolk are in much better shape now.”

“That's good to hear. But I'm worried for you, Frey.”

“I already said I'm fine, Venti.” 

“You're obviously not, idiot.” Venti nudged her with her tail playfully. “Take a load off. He'll be fine.”

“That's- T-that's not what- ” Frey sucked a breath. “I am worried about Arthur but-”

“Ah, so this is about him!”  _ How does a dragon look smug? _

“Venti!” Frey scolded.

“Well? Are you going to talk to him or not?”  _ Pushy as always. _

“He’s not even awake yet, nosey.” Ventuswill snorted at that.

“I heard in good faith-”

“I’m going to see him next, alright? But I came to talk to you first, jerk.” She ended with a pout. “How are you feeling?”

“I feel… the same. Still weak.”

There was an unsaid admission. Frey could see the labor Venti went through simply to breathe, for simple motions. The rune power was fading and would need attention as soon as possible.

“I will fix this, Venti. I promise.”

A small noise of agreement and Venti was quiet; she had fallen asleep once again.

 

-o-

 

“How is he, Doc?” Frey asked, leaving her equipment at the door.

Jones was sitting at her bedside, where Arthur lay. Color had returned to his gaunt features, no longer the sickly white he wore when he first arrived.

“Arthur is progressing well. He’ll need much more rest, but he’s stabilized.” At this, Frey released a breath she'd been holding for what felt like hours. “If you hadn't given him treatment during the storm, who knows what shape he'd be in.”

It was a compliment, but she didn't like the implications.

And it must have shown on her face, because the good doctor backpedalled.

“Like I said, he'll be fine! He just can't pull any stunts like running around in a hurricane until he gets his strength back.”

“Understandable. A-and how long until he can be transferred?”

“A couple days.” He smiled. “And then you’ll have your room to yourself again.”

_ That’s not… _

She suppressed her frown this time around.

With a quick review of the care routine, Jones was gone; the only sound in the room Arthur's steady breathing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the delay folks! It's been a crazy couple of months which is WILD to think about. My old job closed down, I moved, and I got a new job in that time and it's been pretty nuts for me, so thank you for your patience waiting on that cliffhanger! You can roast me for it, lmao  
> Let me know what you think, and hopefully the next chapter will be up soon! <3


	14. Chapter 12

It was nice to hold her close. He couldn't quite describe how she felt, but it was very nice. They sat at the southeast corner of town, on the deck, with their legs dangling over the edge. Frey was leaned into his shoulder. She was a little cold to the touch, despite the sun beating down on them. He could not sympathize.

He was sweating buckets in his attire. 

“Frey, do you mind if I…?” He motioned to his coat.

“It's alright.” Her smile was soft, but there was something odd about her expression, something he could not place. He stripped the layer off as fast as he could, but it was little relief. It seemed like he was even hotter than before, hair sticking to his forehead and curling in the heat.

Frey seemed no worse for wear beside him. In fact, she looked almost cold.

“This heat isn't affecting you?”

“Relax, Arthur, you're fine.”  _ Fine? I'm practically burning alive!  _ He unbuttoned the first few buttons on his shirt.

“I need- I need to move into the shade, Frey. I can't stand this heat.” The sun seemed to be beating down even harder, brighter. Making to stand, Arthur was caught unawares as Frey latched around his arm, a hand on his shoulder and wrist like a vice.

“Arthur, you're fine!” She held him in place, and he felt faint. Her face twisted sickeningly, as if by dark magic, and he fought harder against her grasp.

“No! I have to go, Frey!”  _ Why is she doing this? And why is it so bright?  _ “Let me go!”

“Arthur! You're fine... stop thrashing!” 

“No!” His lungs felt fit to burst.

“Wake up!”

 

He woke as though struck; sudden, gasping and drenched in sweat. His eyes flew open, adjusting to the dim light to see Frey above him, hands tightly gripping his shoulders, and concern knitted into her expression.

“Relax, you're alright. It was just-” She spoke firmly, in a quiet tone.

“A dream.” he breathed. Unthinking, he pulled her into an embrace. Cognizance kicked back in and he recoiled, sputtering.

“I apologize. My dream was very…” Remembering his dream, he cringed. “No, nothing. Sorry. I acted inappropriately.” She quirked an eyebrow, but let the subject fall.

“Don’t a-apologize, I'm just glad y-you're awake now. Your fever is almost gone, too.”

“Fever?” He asked, wracking his brain for details. “I… I walked here last night.  _ Right?” _

After a moment to think, Frey answered. “You knocked on my door 3 days ago.”

He was stunned. 

“Three days? Are you certain?” 

She nodded.

“Yeah, it's evening. You've been fading in and out, I'm not surprised you don't remember.”

He did remember pieces now.  _ Little flickers of consciousness. And…  _

He remembered something odd.

_ No. I didn't say that. _

_ I wouldn’t have. _

“Did I…?”

_ That was simply… a fever dream. _

_ Obviously. _

“Did you what?” He was instantly grounded in the moment.

“Nothing.” her gaze is critical, analyzing his face. “Nothing, I’m thinking of my dreams.”

A wave of pain washed over his head, and he groaned involuntarily.

“Here let me get you the medicine Jones left, and something to wash it down.”

The medicine was wretched, but the soup Frey brought out made it palatable. The two ate in silence at the bed, exchanging occasional glances. It was comfortable for now, but he knew something was off. When they finished, she took the plates and walked off, leaving him alone.

He mused on what  _ must have _ been a fever dream.

_ I think I’m in love with you. _

The idea wasn’t something he’d let himself consider before.

_ Frey is unarguably my best friend. _

_ She’s kind, considerate, and always willing to help, or give advice. _

_ But she’s like that with everyone, isn’t she? _

_ Perhaps, but not to this extent. _

_ Always going out of her way to brighten my day or make me take breaks. _

_ Clearly she cares a great deal about me. _

_ And I feel for her. Physical attraction at minimum. No, definitely more than that. _

_ The way she talks with me about my work. The way her eyes squint when she laughs. The way she makes the world around her glow. _

_ She makes me… feel warm. _

_ She makes me happy. _

_ Maybe I do love her. _

The revelation hit him like a ton of bricks as Frey returned to the bedroom. She stoked the coals in the furnace, keeping the room comfortable. He could barely see her from the bed as she settled onto the floor in front of the fire. As ill as he felt, the urge to join her was overpowering. Standing shakily, pulling the covers from her bed around him like a cape, he padded over to where she sat, knees drawn to her chest.

“Hey, get back in bed! Y-you need rest!”

“Can't I rest by the fire?”

She furrowed her brow, looking away.

“I-I guess?”

The area rug was plush below him as he settled down beside her.

The events of the past few weeks came back to him in waves, and between them and his inner revelation, the silence felt uneasy. He could feel a similar weight troubling her as well.

_ I need to apologize. My behavior lately has been unacceptable. _

“A-about what happened at Porcoline’s…” Frey trails off.

A shaky silence settled between them.

“I-I’m sorry-”

“I’m sorry-”

“I shouldn’t have-”

“I’ve been rude-”

They both stopped. Arthur huffed.

“I want to hear what you have to say first, Frey.”

Frey sighed. “I j-just…” She sat still, clearly gathering her thoughts. He turned his head to face the young woman.

“You’ve given me a good opportunity here in Selphia.”  _ Unexpected start. _

“When I got here, I couldn’t remember anything and I didn’t have a purpose. Ventuswill let me stay because she thought I was  _ you _ . And then you showed up and  _ you _ said I could stay too.” Frey shook her head at the memory. “If you had shown up when you did… if you’d been someone else, I don’t know where I would be right now. You showed me a lot of kindness.

“I wanted to repay that kindness. So I started coming by. To k-keep you company and bring lunch. To repay you. At some point I wasn’t repaying you anymore, though. And it became a routine and you were really nice and I-I think I just misread some signs and I-”  She stopped short, head in her hands, hair falling in her face.

A few moments passed, and when it became clear she wouldn’t say anymore, he began.

“I have to apologize.”

She looked up at him and he turned away, catching only a glance of a miserable expression; she braced for his next words. He felt more nervous than he had in  _ ages _ . 

“I-I haven’t been particularly forthcoming with my own feelings and ah… well…” He coughed. “I haven’t been honest with myself and therefore I... haven’t been honest with you.” Her head was fully raised now, and in his peripheral he could see her glasses reflecting the flickering flames. It set his nerves off even more.

“I made an assumption. About you. About your… personal relations.” He hazarded a look at her. Her expression had shifted, head cocked to the side. He looked away once more. “I let my assumptions color my treatment of you, despite you showering me with nothing but gifts and care.”  _ And love. _

“Assumptions?”

He sighed, bracing himself. “I saw you one morning, running through town dressed as you are now. I thought-” He cut himself off, raking both hands over his face in shame, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Ugh. Nothing justifies this: the hour of morning, recent events,  _ nothing _ . But I thought I knew why you were running back to the castle so early in the morning. I was so narrow-minded, so sure. I  _ convinced _ myself I knew where you were coming from.” 

“What? Did you think I was- oh.” The words hung between them unspoken, and for once he was certain they were on the same page.

“It was the night of your sleepover. Margaret told me about it last- rather, on the night of the storm. I feel awful.” He let out a hollow chuckle. “I felt awful before, but I feel worse now.”

“...I-I see…”

“On top of that, you’ve only been looking out for me and I’ve been avoiding you like the Sechs. My behavior has been downright unacceptable.”

“I-it’s fine, Arthur; I know you probably d-don’t feel-” He winced, feeling her struggling to find her phrasing. “I don’t want you to f-feel obligated to r-reciprocate.”

“You’re not forcing me to do anything.” Her eyes were full of doubt and he mustered up what little courage he had left. “Look...”

“I’m very…” It was his turn to stumble. “I’m fond of you, Frey. I know I’ve done a poor job of showing it. And I didn’t address those feelings until… Well, until now. And I left you out in the cold in the meantime.” A weight lifted from his shoulders at the admission, another settled in with her silence.

The coals crackled. The wind was gone, as was the rain.

Frey was fiddling with the simple lacing of her dress, knees pulled up a little closer to her chest, when he barely heard a soft question pass her lips.

“Do you l-like me, Arthur?”

“Isn’t that what I said?” There was no indignance or color to his question.

Tracing circles on the rug with her fingers, she wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Do you see anything... between us? Like, s-something moving forward.”

He took a moment to process.  _ Why wouldn’t I…? _

It wasn’t until she spoke again that it clicked.

“I’m not a real princess or anything, so I u-understand-”

Her tracing fingers moved more erratically. 

His voice was hoarse, astonished. “Frey-”

“-if the idea is silly to you. O-or-”

“Fre-” She was pulling at the rug now, threatening to unravel its delicate stitches.

“- if that’s not a decision you can make or if there’s anyone el-”

Arthur put his hand over hers. Frey’s head snapped up to look at him, words lost on her lips.

“It doesn’t matter. None of it does.” 

He squeezed her hand gently, leaning in close. “You’re the only one who’s made me feel this way. I like you, Frey. I really do.”

She buried her face between her knees and for a moment, Arthur is sure he’s said something he shouldn’t have. When her shoulders start to shake, he’s  _ absolutely certain _ he’s said something wrong.

He scooted closer, and put a hand gently on her shoulder. 

“Frey?” She leaned into his hand and he ventured the arm around her shoulders to pull her closer and into the blanket. In an instant, she was on him, arms around his chest, head under his chin, shaking like a leaf. And he could feel and hear now that she was _ laughing _ . A soft, nervous, relieved laugh that relieved him too. He dared to pull her closer, cherishing the contact.

“I really like you, Arthur.” Her face was so close to his now, and he couldn’t help but take her all in. Two small beauty marks below her left eye. A small scar from a long past split lip worrying at the corner of her mouth, shiny and white. Long, brown lashes shading her eyes. It was too much.

He leaned in and softly brushed his lips against hers. A ghost of a kiss. When he backed up, giving her a chance to change her mind, she chased him, her lips finding his with a clumsy amount of force. Despite that, her lips were soft, softer than he could have possibly imagined. The kiss was short and chaste, but left him winded all the same.

 

They sat like that for a moment, before Frey collected herself, scarlet to her ears. The look was cute,  _ too cute _ , and he looked away for her modesty.

She stood suddenly, a hand outstretched to him.

“B-back to bed with you. You need rest.”

“Can I get a cup of tea first?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience guys! We made it to a happy resolution!
> 
> Now here's the thing. I do have more of this fic. And I am working on a smut chapter. But is that what anyone actually wants? Because if y'all are good with this, then I won't be upset to end it here, but I do have like three more chapters of content I can add, but it will take a hot minute because I am Not Satisfied with how the smut chapter has been coming along.  
> TLDR, do you want more fic+sex scene? or is this a good end point?  
> Please let me know in the comments! Thanks again for reading!


	15. Chapter 13

It was only another day or so before he recovered enough to return to Porcoline’s, where Meg and Dylas took up the mantle of caring for Arthur. Frey swung by daily to see him, lift his spirits, and give him an update on the city at large.

“You look very cute with those glasses.” 

“D-do I?” 

“You’re beautiful without them as well, but yes. They compliment your features.” At this she blushed, laughing. 

“Hold onto them for me? I don’t want to break them, I’m going out into the field today.”

"You will wear the other ones, though?”

“Yes, I promise, see? I’ve got them here.”

Frey left as she always did, a goodbye with a promise from him to take care in her absence. The day saw a fresh forged battle axe in her hand, and an adventure out onto the Autumn Road. It was training for whatever would come, with folks around town scouring for how to save their beloved dragon.

That was how it was for a time. He changed his habits, recovered, and returned to his trade dealings. When he received a product he thought Frey might appreciate, he put it to the side for her. For their daily visits.

It was nice.

It was very nice.

 

-o-

 

His glasses. They sat on his desk, forlorn with their broken lenses. He wrapped them up delicately. A trusted vendor would take them to his repairman on the morrow, but today they were still in his hands.

He reminisced and regretted it. He tossed them haphazardly in the box with a grimace.

He then straightened them out, padding them into the box carefully.

In the meantime, he wore a pair of horn rimmed frames, a pair that were unremarkable in every way. Rounded rectangles,  _ a boring shape, really _ ; undecorated arms; and on top of it all, a large scratch across the right lens, diagonal and off center.

They annoyed him to no end.

They were the only pair in his collection at his current strength.

 

-o0o-

 

Arthur was looking better.

Well, healthier. His glasses were still broken.

He’d been eating well, with only occasional reminders from her and the others. She thought he may have been adding physical exercise into his routine as well, as his physique improved. Nothing over the top, simply definition where it had been absent before.

It was a very good sign, and an excellent step for him. 

She wrapped up another set up manju for him.

 

-o0o-

 

It was freshly dark, just after dusk. He was stirred by a soft knock at the door, pulling him from the business reports he’d sneaked from his office. He was sitting up on his bed, back to the wall and not yet dressed for bed.

“Come in.”

“Arthur.” Her head poked out between the door and frame, deep green locks framing her ‘everyday glasses,’ lenses now scratched and scuffed to the point he wasn’t sure she could see out of them. He made a mental note to order her a new pair.

“Frey! I wasn’t sure if I would see you today. How are you?”

She gave him a small smile, and sat on the far corner of his bed. “I’m fine, long day. What about you? Not working too hard, I hope?”

“No. It’s been slow going, getting back into the rhythm of this work, but I’m making good progress.”

“Good.” Frey smiled at him again, and he couldn’t help but smile back. She was infectious.

“I...” She looked down at her hands, expression even. “Uh.”

“Go on.”

“I found a lead on saving Ventuswill.” She was calm. Uncharacteristically calm.

“That’s wonderful, Frey.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna pursue it tomorrow, so I might be gone most of the day.”

“Understandable.”

She gave a small smile. “But I’ll come see you when I return.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.” She grinned, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“You should get rest yourself. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard.”

“Maybe.” She sighed. “Either way, I just wanted to let you know, Art-Arthur.”

He spoke without thinking. “You can call me that, if you want.”

“Hm?”

“Art. I don’t think anyone’s ever given me a nickname.”

“Really?" Her eyebrow twitched. "Amber gives me a new one every time I see her.”

That made him laugh.

“Art…” Her expression turned serious. “I’ll see you soon, alright?”

“Of course.” She seemed to be deliberating something, and he tilted his head, leaning forward to get a better look at her expression.

In an instant, she had met him in the middle, lips meeting his. He froze for a split second, unsure of how to proceed, but quickly recovered to place a hand delicately on her cheek. Her kiss was heavy and deep, and he suppressed a sound as she nipped at him. She took the opportunity to dart her tongue out, tasting his lip for a moment before darting right back. He reigned himself in from chasing her with his as he felt her pull away.

She was flushed pink and glowing, the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

“Take care, Art.” 

“You too, Frey.”

As she left, it seemed she took her light with her, and the candle at his bedside flickered out.

 

-o0o-

 

_ If something goes wrong… _

_ Well. At least I said goodbye. _

 

-o0o-

 

 

It was an average day. Frey dominated his thoughts.  _ As always.  _ He treasured the kiss they shared, and forced himself to push it from his thoughts. It took all his willpower to try and get something done, burying himself in his work.  _ With regularly scheduled breaks and meals, of course. _

It was quiet until past noon, when Dylas came running in, out of breath and eyes wide.

“Arthur!”

The prince stood. “Dylas? What’s happened? What’s wrong?”

“It’s-” He struggled to speak, chest heaving. “It’s Frey.”

Arthur dropped his quill, making to leave.

“Arthur, don’t. You’re- It’s too late.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't resist.
> 
> S/O to the anon who asked me to continue this work!


	16. Chapter 14

“Arthur, don’t. You’re- It’s too late.” 

His blood, just beginning to boil, turned to ice in his veins. 

“What?” 

“She took off, she- she’s gone into the Forest of Beginnings alone!”

Dylas wasn't making any sense. “How? Why?”

His chest hurt. His head spun. 

“To save Ventuswill.”

“How.” His face was deathly calm, hiding the torrent of emotions wreaking havoc in his head.

“Barrett gave her a ring to get her there, through the portal at Leon Karnak.”

_ Last night…  _ Her off expressions, her kiss, it all made a terrible amount of sense. He took a long breath.

“I… trust Frey.”

“You’re not worried.” Dylas’ question came out an observation.

“No, I’m terrified.” Arthur couldn’t help but sigh. “But Frey is a capable woman. She’s got a plan.”

“You sound like you’re convincing yourself, Arthur.”

He had no retort.

 

-o-

 

Frey was not back by nightfall. Arthur went to visit Ventuswill.

The divine dragon was curled up, resting, as she had been for several weeks now.

He sat in front of her, resigning that she was not awake to speak with him.

For all that he was a prince…

He felt powerless.

He was sent to oversee Selphia. The woman he’d asked for a hand, had given his spot, the woman he admired-  _ no, loved _ \- had disappeared in the line of  _ his  _ duty. The divine dragon was on her deathbed. And he’d spent the better part of a couple months in his own recovery, unable to help anyone.

He felt like he could cry.

He didn’t. Couldn’t.

He sat there for a long time.

“Arthur.” He was caught off guard, but so tired as to only shift slightly, looking up to Ventuswill. She was in the same position, head on the floor, now with a single eye open, looking at him.

“Yes.” His voice was coarse.

“Where is Frey?” Her words were quiet, softer than he’d ever heard, a stark change from the booming formal tone she normally carried.

“She’s gone to the Forest of Beginnings.” Ventuswill visibly flinched, eye widening. He clarified. “Trying to save you.”

“She’s looking for Le-” The divine dragon stopped herself. “Forest of Beginnings?” She let out a large breath, clearly upset. “I’ll kill that idi-” 

Before she had a chance to finish, a large tear in the space between them opened. As though someone had cut the air between them with a knife.

It was a deep pitch black within the portal, and from it came falling a young man, dressed in strange clothes, a mop of blue hair falling over his shoulders and something clenched between his hand and chest. As he connected with the ground, the hand at his chest fell away, launching something toward Arthur that came to a rolling stop at his feet.

A ring. He picked it up.

A ring with intricately carved runes and crests. Cracked down the center.

“Is this...?” Arthur could hardly grapple with what had happened.  _ Where is she? _

“Just Leon? Where’s Frey?” The dragon paused for a beat, waiting to see if another portal might open where the old one closed. “It’s worse than I thought, that moron. I’ll be back.”

Arthur was taken aback. “Wha- Lady V-”

Before he had any chance to react, the dragon had pulled herself to full upright, flapping her wings once, twice in preparation, before taking off in a gust of wind that knocked the prince onto his back.

No one saw where she went. As though she had literally disappeared upon leaving the castle. 

 Arthur carried the man to the clinic. It was the only thing he could think to do. He was uninjured and unconscious, and Nancy attended to him carefully.

After all was said and done, Arthur found himself out at the lake, staring down at his own reflection.

 

-o-

 

It wasn’t until morning when the divine dragon was spotted, miles out, soaring through the sky lazily. Townsfolk cheered, but the vision did little to unravel the knot in his gut.

When she touched down and Ventuswill dropped her wings, he let out a breath.

Frey, covered in shallow gashes and scrapes, and windswept from her journey sat on the dragon’s back with her small tired smile.

It took all his power not to climb the divine dragon himself, settling for helping Frey down the dragon’s side. Once she was in his arms he held her to him and twirled her, a motion that surprised her and made her laugh, music to his ears.

“Don’t scare me like that again.” His expression was deadly serious.

“I missed you too, Art.” He surprised her (and many of the townsfolk) with a quick kiss before setting her down completely. He saw her flushed expression for a second before she was swallowed by the crowd. He took a moment to gather his decorum, standing beside the divine dragon herself.

“You two make a good pair.” She was once again speaking in the quiet tone he’d heard earlier.

“Do we now?” he chuckled, confused at the sudden admission

“Yes. You complement each other. The two of you together? You’d be an unstoppable force, I think.”

“Perhaps.”

Ventuswill let out a puff through her snout. “But honestly… Who goes to the Forest of Beginnings without an exit strategy…”

Arthur shook his head. “I can’t believe she went without telling me.”

“You didn’t know?”

“Frey didn’t say anything to me about any of this!” he combed his fingers through his hair, letting out a long breath through his teeth.

The divine dragon guffawed. “Okay, maybe you two do need some work.”


	17. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is fully optional! There are very few loose ends tied up here, it's mostly just a little spicy bit, so if you're not here for NSFW, don't sweat it! Thank you for reading this far!

Arthur wasn’t certain how he’d be received. He’d walked her home from dates this late, but never came to visit at this hour. Butterflies swirled in his stomach, ready to call off the whole thing at her slightest reluctance or his nerves.

As he was about to knock, he felt a sense of deja vu as well as anxiety. The last time he had stood here it hadn’t gone particularly well.

Raising his hand to knock, he recoiled as the door opened to an equally startled Frey.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you. I was about to knock.”

“Oh, you’re fine, Art.” The nickname still made him smile.

Frey looked divine. He couldn’t help but draw her in.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

He snapped out of his stupor, adjusting his glasses. “I was… concerned for you, after that stunt you pulled.”

“I just didn’t want you or anyone to worry.”

“I understand. I’m not here to lecture you. I’m just here to keep you company, if you’ll have me.”

She looked upon him blankly before motioning inside.

“Of course, Art. Come in.”

He made himself comfortable, losing the jacket and rolling his sleeves up. She sat on the bed and gestured him to join her. They sat side by side.

“How are you faring?” He thumbed at her cheek and she leaned into the touch. “I’m sure it was more difficult for you.”

“I guess it was. But more than that, I was... afraid.”

“Afraid?”

“Afraid I wouldn’t see anyone ever again. I was so happy that I could save Leon, but when it was setting in that I was alone, I got scared.”

“You’re here now.”

“Yeah, but what if Venti wasn’t there to save me? Then I’d never…” She trailed off, picking at a scab on her elbow.

“Never?” He lifted an eyebrow.

“N-never see you again. Never hold you.” The two had been unconsciously leaning in, their faces now merely inches apart.

He looked in her eyes, her soft green eyes, and pulled her closer. Their lips met with a small sound from the warrior, and he soon melted into her warm touch as she wrapped her arms around his neck. They pulled away, practically gasping as they sat in each other’s arms.

Something shifted, and he became all too aware of their proximity; nose to nose, his hand on her neck.

“Do you...?”

“Yes. Y-you?”

He licked his lips. “Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.”

She surprised him by rolling over on top of him, straddling his waist, nightgown pooled at her hips.

Her voice was steady. “Let me know if I’m being too forward.”

He gulped, throat suddenly dry, and nodded. She began working at the many buttons on his blazer. She opened it slowly, taking her precious time, only to pause and giggle.

He cleared his throat, suddenly self conscious. “Yes?”

“How do you wear this many layers, Art?” she pulled at the light cotton shirt he wore underneath.

“Pardon me? I’m wearing a normal amount of clothes.”

“You wear so much more than anyone I’ve ever met.”

“That’s a fairly narrow scope for you.”

She scoffed, feigning offense, and began tugging at his shirt and scarf. He obliged her, adjusting to let her pull the garments over his head.

He felt a chill, his chest fully exposed now, and eyed Frey carefully as she examined him. Her hands began exploring, warm and calloused. Surprisingly, it felt very nice. Perhaps too nice.

“You’re very… soft.” She whispered, drawing shapes on his skin with featherlight touches. 

_ Not at this rate. _

She leaned down placed a peck nervously on the corner of his mouth. He tried to control his breathing but even the simple gesture was so overwhelming. So unlike anything that had come before. She continued with a trail of small kisses along his jawline.

When hands began meekly working at the sash at his waist, he broke from his daze.

“I think it’s your turn, Frey.” She giggled, but did not stop, successfully undoing the clasp there, yanking the sash loose.

_ Two can play at this. _ He turned the tables on her, pulling her close only to flip, pinning her to the mattress. At this dramatic shift, she laughed, honest and mirthful, and it only encouraged him. Placing gentle kisses down her neck to her collarbone, her laugh changed, breathy and shallow. She did little but place her hands against his sides. The contact was like fire, and he almost ached at the thought of her hands exploring once again.

She slid her arms around his neck, holding him close, and he could feel her against his chest, the thin fabric between them. He stilled for a moment listening to her now heavy breathing against his ear, before sitting up.

He found the hem of her dress, and very delicately tugged it out from beneath his hips. He watched her face for any sign of hesitation. She smiled.

“I wasn’t sure if I’d see you tonight, so I’m not exactly wearing my best… I’m j-just warning you.” 

“You’d look fantastic in anything.” He brushed the dress upward across her stomach. “And in nothing as well.”

She laughed again and raised her arms; he nearly stopped breathing as she pulled the gown over her head.

He’d never seen so much of her before. He took in as many details as he could to memory: the curve of her waist, the soft pouch of her stomach hiding the muscle there, the simple white underwear she wore. She finished removing the dress and he got to work exploring her heavenly form. He wasn’t sure where to start, and his fingers ghosted over her sides. There, he was not surprised to feel the telltale knots of recent and long-healed scars. He felt her tense below him, the apprehension clear on her face. He sidled down a little bit, and made a show of kissing every scar he could see. She let out a sigh.

With his one free hand, he traced lines down her long legs. She must have liked the combination, because he found her fingers carding into his hair. A soft moan escaped her lips, ending in a squeak as she caught herself. It was adorable and he couldn’t help but chuckle against her.

“You are so beautiful, Frey.”

“Thanks. You’re p-pretty handsome yourself.” He thanked her with a nip at her hip, making her jerk, followed by a kiss to soothe it.

“Hey! T-that tickles!”

“Oh? Is that so?” He nipped again on the other side and barely dodged getting kneed in the chin.

“Sorry!”

“I brought that upon myself.”

“S-stop teasing me. You’re still wearing too many clothes.”

“If you insist…”

He pulled himself from her, missing her heat immediately, and began to work on his pants.

_ There are more fastenings on these than I remember… _

He fumbled for what seemed like ages until he was free. He sat down and kicked the pants off without ceremony, eager to return. She beckoned to him, and he crawled up beside her.

They laid together for a long time, exploring each other thoroughly, exchanging kisses and teasing banter in equal measure. He ached for her, an agony he’d live in forever if it was what she wanted, but by the look on her face, he guessed she had other plans. She placed a finger within the waistband of his briefs, the brief touch tantalizing.

“Protection?” The question threw him.

“I- yes, here.” He dove for his trousers, fishing through his pockets before procuring the condoms in question. “Are you ready?”

Her answer made his mouth go dry. Her eyes were half lidded as she traced lazy circles on her clit through her panties, her lips parted, breathing deeply.

Without another word, he removed his briefs, watching her eyes flick downward. Arthur wrapped up, face heating up as he fumbled with the condom. Frey simply stared, absorbing his form as he worked, her hand moving steadily.

He let out a shaky breath as he approached the bed, leaning over her.

“We’ll start like this?”

“Yeah.” The word was breathy and distant, her eyes glazed. Broken from her daze, she squirmed, arching her back to remove her final garment. He ghosted his fingers over her hips and her breath hitched.

He settled between her and they both sucked in breaths as he lined himself up at her entrance.

When he began to slide inside, her expression contorted. If not pain, then at least discomfort. He stopped.

“Wait. It’s- One second.” 

He pulled out immediately. “Do you need more time? Or I can-” 

“No, just, hold on.”

The heady fog that had settled between them let up slightly as Frey tapped him to flip off her, and she dug into her nightstand drawer. From it, she plucked something he didn’t see. 

“Here. Use this, it’ll be better for both of us.” In his hand she placed a small bottle. He knew what it was, but  _ why did she have it? _

“Where did you get that?”

“I have my source. Don’t worry about it.”

“W-why do you have it?” He was still reeling.

“I’m- I’m a grown woman, Arthur.” She blushed. “We can talk about this later.”

“You’re right, but how-”

“D-don’t read into it that much, Art!” She was flushed crimson now, down to her chest,  _ a lovely sight. _ She was right, trade talk could probably wait until the afterglow set in.

He lubed up, starting even more carefully than before, watching Frey for any sign he should stop, but there was no discomfort this time. He pushed in slowly and groaned.

Her sighs were the only thing anchoring him to this plane, as he saw stars at the sensation, doing everything in his power not to lose himself right there. He began rocking slowly into her.

So caught up, he almost missed her addressing him.

“Hm?” He tried to make it sound very casual and strained but failed.

She smiled up at him, a loving gleam in her eyes. “Move faster.”

“Anything for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this chapter, thank the anon in the comments for asking for it. I know I left it open ended but I think I've done as much as I feel I should for this one! Thank you all for joining me on this journey, this fic is really a milestone for me so thank you for your support :)  
> Let me know what you think, critiques on this chapter are welcome.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope y'all have as much fun reading this as I'm having writing it.


End file.
